


personal implications of altruism

by qrovers



Series: advanced identity reveals (the spider-man au) [3]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mysterio's ugly ass is here, Pining, when is it not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25226338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qrovers/pseuds/qrovers
Summary: It starts with the re-enactment of the upside down kiss in Spider-Man (2002).
Relationships: Troy Barnes/Abed Nadir
Series: advanced identity reveals (the spider-man au) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817263
Comments: 30
Kudos: 189





	personal implications of altruism

**Author's Note:**

> working title for this was 'mysterio the cockblock'

If he wasn't sick and exhausted when he found out that Troy is Spider-Man, he would’ve asked him a million questions about it. Is the experience more similar to Tobey Maguire or Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man? Is there a possibility for Venom to exist? Can the genre shift soon because, as good as _Blade_ was, superhero movies feel absolute tiresome and bland.

But Abed couldn't find the right words for his questions, and just climbed into Troy’s embrace, falling asleep at the touch. 

He wakes up feeling better, but comes to an empty bed. He frowns a little at the space he didn't expect, before swinging his legs over the bed and standing up. 

When he gets out of the blanket fort, it's around the same time Troy’s climbing back into their apartment from the window of their fire escape. He’s in his Spider-Man suit, though the stab wound hole from last night sewed over. He takes his mask off and smiles at Abed after he shuts the window closed. 

“Oh, hey, Abed,” Troy says, “you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, a bit.” Though his voice is hoarse from the flu. 

“Cool,” Troy takes a paper bag with the logo of Dunkin’ Donuts on it and shows it off. “Now, I know it's not pizza but…”

Abed bursts into a grin at the reference, stomach fluttering with metaphorical butterflies. But his eyebrows furrowed in concern after a thought. “You're already out again? What about your stab wound?”

“Oh! Yeah, that,” Troy lifts the helm of his Spider-Man costume and lifts it to reveal his stomach. No trace of the stabbing anywhere, not even the slightest hint of a scar. “Enhanced healing, pretty cool.”

Abed smiles. “Cool. Cool cool cool.”

#

Having your best friend be a crime-fighting superhero is pretty great, Abed thinks. He keeps a list of Troy’s superpowers in one of his personal notebooks in the secret pocket of his messenger bag. Not for any Best Friend-turned-Bitter Villain trope, but more that it’ll be easier to search for scenes and moments to re-enact. Abed, knowing himself, doesn't really see their relationship evolving into friends-to-enemies. He’ll never willingly hurt Troy, and he’s more than okay with being the villain to whoever does. 

Abed imagines himself as the best friend, the confidant. Like Harry Osborn but Green Goblin never happens. 

(A part of Abed wants to see himself as Mary Jane. She seems to be the one who Peter is most close to, the one to ground him when he gets out of control. Though, she is his love interest. Abed doesn't try to dissect what that could mean to him.)

Troy, who he originally thought would be more like Stan Lee’s Peter Parker, has way more powers and is obviously way cooler than him. He has electricity _and_ invisibility _and_ can swing across buildings. He could’ve easily been a cardboard copy of the quippy jokester Spidey, same powers and personality what not, but Troy is _Troy_ and Abed's never met anyone else like him. 

Troy shows him all these in what Abed imagines to be a movie montage. It starts with them pranking most of the study group with Troy’s invisibility and ends with him putting Abed down after swinging him around the city, whooping and laughing at the wind.

They're in an alleyway on a Saturday afternoon when Abed holds his arm to steady himself, not wanting to heave on the pavement. He hears Troy say in understanding, “Yeah, it needs some time getting used to,”

“Thanks,” Abed replies. 

“You know, we can re-enact that famous kiss scene right now,” Troy says, jumping and then hanging upside down with his legs locked onto a fire escape. “If you want to,”

His heart picks up the pace as he nods. 

They say their lines as if they've rehearsed this a thousand times. Abed plays with the helm of Spider-Man’s mask and pulls it down to show Troy’s lips. He’s smiling, lopsided. Abed wonders how he's looking at him under the mask. 

“The only thing we need is rain,” he says. It could be the perfect re-enactment if they didn't have good weather. 

Troy shimmies his shoulders to what Abed guesses is a shrug upside down. He says, “We don't have to get _everything_ right,”

They kiss.

It feels electric, a little bit incredible. Abed has never felt this way when kissing someone before, like he’s standing on the ocean or flying up to the clouds or doing something he’d never think he’d do. His fingertips tingle and he cups Troy’s cheeks, savoring each second of this moment. 

However, “Cool,” is all he says when they separate. 

They do their handshake upside down. It feels weird but comforting. 

Troy does a flip and land squatting on the railings of the fire escape. He pulls his mask down again and waves. “See ya later, random citizen!” 

_Thwp!_

And he's gone.

Abed stands in the middle of the alleyway for a few more seconds, quietly realizing what this means. 

#

Troy tells him about the different people he fights almost every day. 

Abed listens with intense concentration, jotting down notes for future use, the villain motivations and inventions, the long monologues they give when they think they got Troy trapped. When Troy tells these stories, the long epics of his battles, his eyes light up and he smiles a bit bigger. Abed loves seeing him so happy, so he always asks about it when Troy gets home. 

Sometimes it's just robbers. Sometimes it's henchmen for supervillains. Sometimes Troy comes home holding a bag of take-out from the sweet old lady he probably helped cross the street. 

As awesome as it is, now that the secret is out to Abed (and Annie, which he's not sure how to feel about), Troy doesn't have to waste his time hiding. It's obvious he has fun patrolling the city for crimes, swinging across buildings and helping others, so he does it way more often now than before. It gives him cool stories to tell, but it's making him spend less and less time in the apartment and, subsequently, with Abed. 

He can't bring this up to him, even though he really wants to, because it might cut off Troy’s groove, and the last thing he wants is to limit him. 

So, he spends time in the dreamatorium or has a movie marathon alone. Sometimes Troy comes back on time, but it would be obvious that he's too tired to focus. He’d try to blink the sleepiness away and Abed would tell him they can stop the movie but he’d refuse. He’d link their arms and rest his head on Abed's shoulder and sleep, and Abed hopes he doesn't have super hearing so he can't tell how hard his heart hammers.

One morning, Abed and Annie are watching Avatar: The Last Airbender while eating leftovers from last night. He hears a light tap on the window behind him and hurriedly sets his plate down and rushes to open it. When he does, Troy stumbles into the apartment with less grace than usual. 

“I have the most _insane_ story,” he says, waving his hands around wildly to emphasize. 

Annie, still seated, raises her hand in the air and tuts. “Share it later. Change your clothes, we have visitors soon.”

#

When Troy emerges out of the bedroom in his normal clothes, a sweater and jeans ( _Abed’s_ sweater, he realizes. It's too long for him so the sleeves go over his hands.), Abed gets the remote from the coffee table and pauses the episode, with his and Annie’s focus solely directed at him.

“Okay,” he starts, “You guys know that guy _Mysterio_?”

Then he explains, with great detail, how he fought a guy who has the ability to make ultra-realistic illusions. He was easy to defeat because 1) his attacks were all fake and 2) he was just a regular guy with a bunch of fancy tech. But he ran away before Troy could send him to the cops. 

“What does he look like?” Annie asks, intrigued. 

“I don't know, he was wearing a weird fish bowl helmet thing,”

“He’d be great in the dreamatorium,” Abed comments. 

Troy nods. “Yeah, if only he wasn't evil.”

#

Annie always sleeps and wakes up earlier than both of them, so Troy and Abed find themselves alone in the living room watching _Spirited Away_ at 3 am. Troy's head is on Abed's lap as Abed strokes his hair, looking at him rather than the TV, as uncharacteristically as that may seem. There are bags under Troy’s eyes but a small, content smile on his face. He’s watching the movie with less concentration than normal. 

He notices Abed staring and says, “What is it?”

“Nothing,”

He hums. “The visitor never came.”

“Yeah.”

“Who was it supposed to be?”

“Oh, someone to fix the sink,”

“ _What_?” Troy sits up and faces Abed. “You don't have to hire someone for that, you’ve got me!”

Abed knows of Troy’s plumbing abilities very well. It's listed in the ‘natural abilities’ section in his notebook, right under ‘football’ and ‘understanding’. 

“I know,” Abed reasons, “But you've been busy protecting the city, I convinced Annie to just let you relax here. We can both tell that you're really tired.”

“Oh,” Troy immediately softens, giving him a smile that makes Abed’s heart flip. “Thanks,” he says and gets back to laying his head on Abed's lap. “Does that mean I don't have chores anymore?”

“No, Annie assigned you to dish washing duty. Check the Chore Calendar,”

“Dammit,”

#

The plumber comes in the next day instead, disheveled and a bit roughed up when Abed opens the door. Troy is still out getting lunch and Annie went out with Britta so Abed has to deal with the plumber, who introduced himself as Quentin, alone. 

Quentin looks very ordinary, slicked back brown hair and a beard. His smiles don't quite reach his eyes. One of his uniform’s buttons are in the wrong hole, and Abed is having trouble reading _Quentin_ in cursive. 

As he leads him to the bathroom sink, they pass through the wall of Troy and Abed's framed pictures. Quentin seems strangely fascinated by them, staring at each one and soaking them in. 

Abed shifts uncomfortably. “The bathroom is down the hall,” he says. 

Quentin looks at him quickly and squints his eyes. Abed furrows his eyebrows and wonders if he said something wrong, but before he can ask, Quentin has already walked past him without a reply. Abed follows behind, not wanting a stranger alone in their bathroom. 

When they get there, Quentin sets his tool bag down and crouches down to examine the sink. He’s asking some things and Abed’s responding until he hears the door open and turns around. 

Troy's back, though he doesn't seem to have the takeout he said he’d get. 

He’s walking to Abed with soft eyes and an even softer smile. He cups Abed’s hand in his and leads him away from the door and into the living room. He follows immediately, heart pounding, not really sure what was going on. 

“Troy, what?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper because Troy’s looking at him so _fondly_ Abed’s speechless. 

His hand reaches up and cups Abed’s face, a thumb stroking his cheek so light he can barely feel it. Abed closes his eyes as Troy tiptoes up and leans in for a kiss.

There's a knock at the door.

Abed opens his eyes. The living room is empty. 

He goes and opens the door. Troy’s waiting for him outside, takeout in his hands. Abed looks at him confused. 

He smiles at him. “Hey, buddy! Can I come in?”

It takes a second for Abed to realize he’s been staring and steps aside to make space. His stomach feels weird. He’s not really sure what just happened.

Troy can tell something's wrong. He frowns. “You okay?”

Abed nods. “F-Y-N-E.”

“Did the plumber come today”

“Oh yeah, he’s—” As Abed gestures to the bathroom, he realizes it’s empty. The tool bag is nowhere to be found, and so is Quentin. 

Maybe he's just crazy. 

#

Abed realizes something in the dead of night. It's a quiet thought, one that makes so much sense, Abed is kinda embarrassed it takes him this long to figure it out. His eyes flutter open, looking at the dip of the bed above him. He whispers, “Troy?”

The answer comes immediately. “Yeah?”

“I think I just met Mysterio,”

#

When Troy and Abed first moved in together, Abed had proposed they make a documentary about it. He hid cameras all over the apartment and didn't tell Troy where they were to get a sense of realism. It started out with just a quirky roommate maybe-will they/won't they romcom, but after Annie came around, the genre shifted from to an ensemble comedy. Abed knows those aren't documentary tropes, but he can't help it if their group is built like a sitcom. 

Anyways, he never turned the cameras off, still making the film until the ends of the earth. And then he realized they were turned on when Quentin visited. 

It wasn't that hard to figure out he was Mysterio, the same way Abed knew Troy was Spider-Man for months. The guy felt like he was waiting for Abed to ask him about his evil plan, ready to bust out his index cards of a long monologue detailing his tragic backstory. He felt dramatic even to Abed’s standards.

The next morning, Abed asks Troy to close his eyes while he gathers all the hidden cameras and sets them on the table. 

After they watch, all Troy initially says is, “Wow,”

“Yeah,” Abed says, “This documentary’s genre has shifted too much. I feel like it's too conceptual to be immersive,”

“That’s awesome,” Troy continues, “You’re _awesome_.”

Abed starts to feel giddy. He’s helping masked vigilante _Spider-Man_ but, more importantly, he's making Troy happy. 

“I might finally catch this guy,” Troy says, standing up from his seat and taking off his shirt to reveal the Spider-Man suit underneath. 

(They had modified it to be less blue and bright and more black and red. It suits Troy very well.)

Annie's woken up from the commotion in the living room. Her bedroom door creaks open as she goes out, rubbing the sleepiness out her eyes. “You guys are up early,”

She looks at Troy as he’s pulling down his pants. “You wear that _to bed_?”

He just shrugs. “What? It's comfy,”

To Abed, he says with a smile, “Mysterio is going down,”

#

Troy’s past curfew. 

Or, he would be, if he had one. 

Abed always hears him come back at night around 1 or 1:30 am, maybe a few minutes later, he's not that punctual. He’s sure Troy doesn't know he knows, because he always pretends to be asleep when Troy comes into the blanket fort.

It's currently 3:00, and just now is Abed hearing the creaking of the window from the fire escape, and then a few hushed cusses as things fall from the table they were on. Abed opens his eyes and gets out of the bed, eyebrows furrowed with concern, as he sees Troy standing in the middle of the living room in the dark. 

Abed opens the light and Troy flinches. He’s shaking, shivering and panting hard. He's hugging himself tight, the latex suit almost getting holes from being stretched so much. 

“Troy?”

Troy blinks, then looks at him. Abed takes a step forward to comfort him, the way Troy does when he's panicky himself, but Troy winces and steps back until he's to the wall. He puts a hand out cautiously, breathing out a barely audible, “Wait,”

Abed’s heart wants to throw up at the sight of Troy’s reaction. 

He seems so hurt and _scared_ , Abed has to stop himself from running and holding Troy in his arms to make sure he's safe. He doesn't think that will help. So Abed waits, not wanting to make any sudden movements. 

“How do I know you’re the real Abed?” He asks, voice a little louder (and more hoarse) this time. “Tell me something only you would know.”

Then, quietly and full of pain, he adds, “ _Please_ ,”

Abed nods. It's a clone situation, probably, like a shapeshifting alien or something. Someone had probably pretended to be him to hurt Troy.

(There's unbridled rage waxing and waning in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't fully understand it, but he puts a pin to deal with that later. Troy needs him calm.)

“Okay,” Abed says, thinking on whether he should do it randomly or in chronological order, “you love butt stuff. Your favourite movie is _The Bridge on the River Kwai_ . You like _Twilight_ way more than you let on. You like your coffee with more milk to the point you can barely taste the caffeine. You hog your blankets. You're a morning person. You—”

Troy cuts him off by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Abed torso. It's more forceful than usual, pinning his arms to his side yet still laced with care and relief and another feeling Abed can't understand. Troy puts his head on his shoulder, the way he does whenever they hug. He lets out a shaky sigh, like he didn't expect to actually be able to touch him. And that makes Abed extremely sad.

He wraps his arms around Troy's waist, a small and noticeable squeeze to let him know he's here, solid and alive. He feels Troy shake and, a few moments later, his shoulder get wet, and he realizes that Troy has been sobbing.

He doesn't ask about anything, too afraid for answers.

#

Abed notices how Troy has gone both clingy and distant at the same time. 

The clingy part: They cuddled in the bottom bunk that night, silence settling over them like a blanket. They begin to do that to the point it becomes a habit after a few weeks. 

Troy holds his hand more often. He squeezes it, fingers intertwined, never verbally acknowledges it. They hold hands under the table, in the Greendale hallways, in bed as they cuddle. Abed’s heart does jumping jacks whenever they do, but it lessens when he can feel Troy’s relief when he squeezes back, replaced with unanswered concern of what happened. He can't get himself to ask.

The distant part: The epic adventure stories of Spider-Man Troy used to tell have downgraded into shallow, passing comments that barely get a conversation. What once used to be so detailed have become “Good,” or “Tiring,” or “Boring.” The villain-of-the-week (a game all three of them used to play where they name the ridiculous man in costume) are few and far between. Almost like they're being hidden. 

Troy tries to hide a lot of things, actually, from the growing bags under his eyes to the flinching at loud sounds. He still looks content every time he gets out to patrol though, just a little bit tired. 

He finds Troy hiding mail one morning. When asked about it, he quickly hides it in his back pocket with a smile. 

“What's it about?” Abed asks.

“Football,”

Abed catches him climbing out the fire escape once at 4 am in his Spidey Suit. He gives Abed a small wave. He waves back and has to bite his tongue so that he doesn't blurt out that he's starting to think that this whole superhero thing is a mistake. That's the worry talking, and the face of pure happiness Troy makes before _thwping_ out the window eclipses that feeling tenfold.

Plus, it's not really within the Superhero Best Friend trope to ground the hero. He’s not Aunt May. Sometimes, the superhero doesn't even have a best friend himself. A love interest maybe, but the best friend always gets left behind. Maybe Troy has some big story arc that doesn't include him. 

There's a moment where Abed stops and thinks of the implications of that. 

One day, he can't help himself. Abed asks Troy during Friday Roommate Dinners, “Troy, are you okay?”

Annie's attention goes to Troy as she bites into her burrito. 

Troy says, “I’m fine,”

“F-I-N-E or F-Y-N-E?”

A beat. 

“F-Y-N-E.”

Abed tries to curb the growing dread in his stomach. 

#

Annie pulls Abed aside after dinner. They enter the blanket fort with her hand squeezing his arm and her face morphing into something filled with concern. 

“Something's wrong with Troy,” she says.

Abed shakes his head. “He said he was F- _Y_ -N-E,”

“Do you believe that?”

“Of course I do,” he says immediately, despite feeling weird saying it. “Why would he lie?”

She pauses, crossing her arms over her chest and grimaces. “Don't you think he's being—I don't know—distant?”

To that, he nods in agreement. “I do,”

“Really?” A voice interjects, coming from the empty bed. Both Abed and Annie jump in surprise (Annie shouting louder than Abed physically can) as the air around the bottom bunk shimmers from opaque to visible to reveal a Troy Barnes with an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry,” he says. 

Annie, gotten over the knee-jerk shock reaction, looks at him. “Sorry for eavesdropping or sorry for being distant?”

“Both,” he pauses, wringing his hands together, “I didn't mean to...to be distant. I just—can I make it up to you?”

#

He takes them to a fancy restaurant Abed’s sure they’ve dined and dashed in. Annie assures both of them that the staff probably doesn't even recognize them. 

She’s wrong. 

They find themselves panting heavily at the corner a few blocks away from the restaurant after being chased out with a scary man with a butcher knife. Or at least, Abed and Annie are panting. Troy looks like he just had a nice stroll. 

“You guys are already tired?” He says jokingly. “I can do another lap,”

Annie rolls her eyes. “Okay, mutant,”

“Not a mutant, actually,” Troy says, Abed nodding in agreement. “Radioactive spider bite,”

“My mistake. Okay, _nerd_.”

“You're hanging out with Jeff too much,” Abed interjects. 

“Guys, focus!” Annie says, stomping her foot, her hands held up in front of her. 

As if on cue, Troy’s stomach grumbles, a quick reminder of his awfully fast metabolism. Abed once saw him eat the entire box of breakfast cereal in one sitting. 

“Right. Dinner,” Abed says. 

#

They find a tiny upstart restaurant they’ve never seen before around the corner. Annie says they should try something new, much to Abed’s complaints. However, he finds himself sitting at a table inside a few minutes later. 

The chairs are uncomfortable. Abed shifts in his seat. 

“The salmon looks good,” Troy says from across him, the menu in his hands. 

“It does,” Annie nods. She puts her menu down and starts to stand up. “Order the tuna for me. I’ll be in the bathroom,”

“Will do,”

She leaves the table, waving to the hostess near the entrance. Unbeknownst to both Troy and Abed, who are sitting in a silence unfamiliar to them, Annie is being escorted outside, the door locked behind her. 

Troy and Abed haven't experienced uncomfortable quiet between each other ever since first year. It always seemed like they were on the same page. 

Abed wonders if you can miss someone sitting right in front of you. 

“I’m sorry for seeming cold lately,” Troy says, putting his menu down so that Abed can see his face. 

Abed shakes his head. “It's okay,”

“It's not okay.”

“It's normal to have less communication when you're spinning off,”

“Spinning off?” Troy furrows his eyebrows. “Abed, real people don't spin off,”

“Yes, they do.” A pause. “People just call it differently. Sometimes it's moving away. Sometimes it's falling out.”

“We’re not—” Troy gets cut off by a waiter arriving. 

“Hello, may I take your order? Soup of the day is pumpk—”

“We’ll have tuna,” Troy cuts him off, eyes still trained at Abed. But Abed's not looking back, staring at the waiter whose face he can't seem to decipher. It's like if he blinks it changes ever so subtly. 

“How about you, sir?” The waiter says as he turns to Abed. His smile doesn't reach his eyes. He looks very ordinary, brown hair slicked back and a beard. If Abed squints, he looks an awful like—

“Mysterio?” He asks.

At an instant, the smile drops. His shoulders tense up and he rolls his eyes with an annoyed sigh. “Dammit,”

And the whole room goes dark. 

Well, dark seems more like an understatement. It's pitch black, void black, like he’s been sucked into a black hole. 

Abed blinks. Once, twice. Pushes the base of his hands to his eyes until he's seeing stars. 

He tries his voice. “Troy?”

The answer comes immediately, less panicked than his, grounded and steady. “Abed? Stay where you are. I’m coming.”

There is no doubt in Abed's head he will. 

A voice from somewhere in the void says, “That's cute.”

Abed doesn't have to see Troy’s face to hear his annoyance. It's unbridled and forceful, built up by things Abed doesn't know about. Troy shouts, “Tell Vice Dean Laybourne to kiss my ass!”

And Abed has given up trying to make sense of the situation. 

#

He doesn't know how he got in this position exactly, knife pressed to his throat as blood runs across his cheek. Mysterio holds him forcefully, pinning his arm behind him. 

The black void illusion melts away. They’re in an abandoned building, monoblock chairs that looked fancy strewn on the floor. Troy is across the room, looking so angry even Abed feels scared of what he’ll do. 

He growls. “Let him go,”

Abed feels Mysterio falter behind him for a second, before regaining his confidence again. 

“The only way to save him is to go to AC school, Mr. Barnes.”

 _What the fuck_.

Troy rolls his eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

Abed winces in pain as Quinten readjusts his arm behind him. He feels like a damsel at the moment, not really having any option but to wait and get saved. 

Troy straightens almost immediately, fists balled to his side. His eyes feel like they could melt someone with one look, unrelenting rage pouring out like lava. He threatens Mysterio with a low, dangerous voice, “Don’t you hurt him,”

“Aw, that's so sweet,” Abed can hear the smug smile from his tone. Mysterio whispers to his ear, “What’re you gonna say to that?”

He blurts out the only thing in his mind. It's been resting on his tongue the moment it occurred to him that he might die. 

“I love you,”

#

Imagine a scene after the fight, of Abed sitting at the edge of an open ambulance, a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders while a hand holds a cup of water and his other arm is stretched out for an EMT. The block is filled with police cars and ambulances, the siren lights shining on the pavements. He watches Mysterio get hauled into a car, hands handcuffed at his back. It's very accurate to TV shows, he observes. That calms him slightly, as the adrenaline slowly fades into exhaustion. 

Troy walks over with his hands in his pockets. He tries to act casual, as the EMT shuffles away to give them privacy, but it's obvious he's more tired than he lets on. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

“Hi,”

He looks at Abed’s face like he’s holding his breath. His hand reaches out and cups his cheek, thumb stroking the gauze over it, over the long but shallow soon-to-be scar of Mysterio’s swiss knife. 

Abed places a hand over his and squeezes. From the crease of Troy’s forehead to the studying look in his eyes, Abed has some idea of what he's thinking. 

“This isn't your fault,” he says.

“I wasn't thinking that,”

“You're lying,”

“People lie,”

Abed pauses. Quietly, he says, “Friends don't,”

Troy immediately softens, a small exhale making his shoulders drop. He holds Abed’s hands and guides them to his lap, thumbs massaging the back of his palms. He answers the unsaid question in the air. “We’re still friends,”

When Abed doesn't respond, just staring at his shoes, Troy says, “I’m not spinning off,”

“You haven't told me anything about Vice Dean Laybourne,” Abed mutters, “Or the fact that Mysterio wanted to recruit you for AC school. I didn't know any of that. It feels like you are.”

“I’m not spinning off,” Troy repeats, “I promise.”

While still holding his hands, Troy sits next to him in the ambulance, feet not touching the ground, his legs swaying as he thinks of something to say. “I don't—I’m not even sure if my spinoff will be any good,” 

Abed cocks his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he says, “I’m not exactly the most interesting protagonist,”

He continues before Abed could interject, “Like, I don't know, compared to you! If you got bitten instead of me, you’re gonna be, like, actual Peter Parker. You’d be a lovable nerd who gets superpowers. I feel more like...Flash Thompson, or something.”

Abed waits a beat before responding. “But you're not like Flash or Peter,” he says, “You're Troy,”

Troy looks at him. 

“Sure, I’ll be the more Trope-Typical protagonist but,” he pauses, “Peter was never Spider-Man because he's a nerd. He's Spider-Man because he's a hero. _You_ ’ _re_ Spider-Man because you’re a hero. You understand people. You help them. You go out of your way to help them. Even without the mask.”

Troy smiles at that. 

Abed continues, “I can never do that. I’m too selfish for that,”

Troy bumps their shoulders together. “You're not selfish,”

“I don't want to lose you,”

“That's not selfish,”

“I almost asked you to stop being Spider-Man,” Abed admits.

A beat. “I’d stop,”

“That's the problem,” Abed says, pushing himself off the ambulance and standing in front of Troy. They don't let go of each other. “That's selfish of me to ask you that. I’m trying not to be, because I want you to be happy.” A pause. “But I also want you to be safe.”

The only sounds right now are the indistinct chatter, radios and muffled conversations. Annie had called them after being locked out, sensing something was wrong. Abed thought they were a Deus Ex Machina at first. 

Troy nods. “I’m sorry I lied before,”

“Why did you?”

“I just,” he looks at him, “I saw the way you looked at me after that night,”

Abed doesn't have to ask to remember which. 

“I hid Spider-Man for so long because I hate seeing you worry.”

Abed releases a breath. “Due to the nature of your hobby, I don't think I can stop worrying,”

“I know,”

Abed gets an idea. “What if I be your guy in the chair then?”

“What's that?”

“The one who supports you technically. I tell you which corridor to go in. Your mission control.”

Troy gives him a small smile. “That makes sense,”

And, without a warning, Troy pulls him closer. Abed extends his arms, anticipating a hug, and then is met with a peck on the lips. It's the most anticlimactic kiss he could think of. No build up or slowed moments. If this was simulated in the dreamatorium, it would have a whole scene dedicated to it, like a drum roll. 

But it's quick and barely lasts a second, and Abed feels like caffeine got shot up his bloodstream, though he's also a bit confused. 

Troy answers his question before he can even form it into a coherent thought. “I love you too,”

“You were supposed to say ‘I know’,” Abed jokes, head swimming. 

“I know,” Troy says, “But I don't think we should do references for this storyline, you know?”

“Let's just be us?” Abed asks.

“Let's just be us,” Troy repeats. “Troy and Abed against the world.”

The second kiss is sweeter.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> follow me on sitcom twit ! @/trobedcore :D


End file.
